


Asami Sato and the Goblet of Fire

by orange_panic_archive



Series: Let Me Count The Ways [3]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bending (Avatar), F/M, Fluff, Gen, I don't really know how to tag this nonsense, Muggle!Asami, Muggle/Wizard Relations, Non-Canon Relationship, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Wizard!IrohII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28718556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_panic_archive/pseuds/orange_panic_archive
Summary: Muggle Asami Sato is doing her fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry as part of the school's controversial exchange program. Lucky for her, it's also the year of the exciting Tri-wizard Tournament. Asami might not know any magic, and be too young to compete besides, but she didn't get where she was by letting silly things like that stop her.Or, Chapter 16 of the Goblet of Fire but make it Irosami, the utterly absurd one-shot no one asked for.
Relationships: Iroh II/Asami Sato
Series: Let Me Count The Ways [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165019
Comments: 7
Kudos: 13





	Asami Sato and the Goblet of Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THIS IS. I blame Ambien and heartily apologize to everyone.
> 
> Noting that I own none of the content from LoK or Harry Potter. Nothing in this story is even close to canon in either universe.
> 
> Mild swearing but otherwise very G.

“To ensure no underage student yields to the temptation,” said Dumbledore, “I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.”

Asami grumbled, and she wasn’t alone. All along the house tables she heard angry chatter interspersed with groans and conspiratorial whispers. What had once seemed like the ultimate way to prove herself had just fizzled into so much spilled pumpkin juice, at least for those of them under seventeen, which was most everyone. Which was a terrible choice in her opinion. Why bring a challenge to a school like Hogwarts when everyone but 7th years were too young to participate?

“That’s not fair!” shouted Korra from the Hufflepuff table. A few people giggled, mostly “Team Avatar,” the self-styled collection of sycophants that followed her everywhere. Korra was only a fourth year, a year younger than Asami, and was well and truly below the age line, but she was powerful and popular and a Quidditch star, and certainly never had trouble asserting herself.

Dumbledore’s pale blue eyes fell on her. “I assure you, it is perfectly fair, Avatar Korra,” said the headmaster. He lifted his eyes to address the rest of the students. “I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through.”

“My father will have something to say about this!” spat Draco as Dumbledore continued admonishing the students not to make the decision to enter lightly. “The competition should be among the best, not simply any old piece of trash Dumby decides to let in.” For some reason his eyes flicked to Asami. She did her best to ignore him. 

“I’m as good as champion,” growled Cassius, puffing out his chest. He was one of the Slytherin team’s Chasers and thought quite a lot of himself because of it. Asami couldn’t stand him. Slytherin had a real shot at a good team, but Cassius Warrington’s constant cheating and fouling was going to get them disqualified.

“Yeah, well, as long as it’s not Korra or Potter,” hissed Draco. “They’re both underage, too, but I can see them trying to pull something. ‘I’m the Avatar! I’m the Chosen One!’ They think they’re so _special_ rules don’t apply to them.”

“An Age Line!” said Fred Weasley, or George Weasley, or one of them as they passed behind her. Everyone was more or less moving out of the Great Hall now, following Dumbledore and his casket out into the entrance hall. “Well, that should be fooled by an Aging Potion, shouldn’t it?” Asami snorted. Clearly Potter and Korra weren’t the only ones who didn’t think the rules applied to them.

“What’s so funny?” said the tall Durmstrang boy who’d sat next to her. For some reason they’d all been seated at the Slytherin table for dinner instead of spreading out. He hadn’t said a word so far though, to her or anyone else, and had instead spent most of the evening more or less hiding in his heavy fur-lined red robes. 

“Aging potion,” Asami said. She cocked her head in the direction of the vanishing Weasley twins. “It’s not going to work. I may not know magic, but anyone who’s studied the theory could see that. Nothing can actually make you older in essence, just in seeming.”

The young man’s eyes widened. Up close she could see they were an odd color, a brown so light they were almost gold. “Not know magic? Are _you…_ what’s a _muggle_ doing…?”

Asami glared at him. “Don’t look so appalled. I get quite enough of that, thank you.”

He jerked as if he’d been slapped, then turned in his seat to face her. “I’m not appalled,” he said quickly. She saw his ears had gone as scarlet as his robes, but to his credit he didn’t look away. “Just interested. I didn’t mean to question your place here.” 

He seemed genuinely sorry. Asami relaxed a little. It wasn’t his fault, after all. “Exchange program,” she said. “They take two a year, a boy and a girl, and have ever since Headmaster Katara. She was muggle-born and she liked the idea of bringing the worlds closer together.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I take it Durmstrang does no such exchanges?”

The boy shook his head. Upon closer inspection she could tell that he was older, probably a 7th year, and that “boy” might not apply to him much longer. That made sense if he’d been brought in to compete though. “Never. But Miss…”

“Sato.”

“Miss Sato, Hogwarts is a school of magic. You can’t do magic. What do you do here?”

Asami smiled at his baffled expression. “I learn.”

Suddenly a shadow fell over them. “Back to the ship then,” said a cold voice. Asami looked up at the tall, nearly skeletal form of Headmaster Karkaroff. He started talking to a large, hulking student with sad brown eyes and a hooked nose sitting a few seats down the table. “Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?”

The big student shook his head and seemed to shrink back down into his furs. “Professor, I would like some wine,” said the pudgy Durmstrang boy next to him. It was then Asami realized their entire delegation was male. Ugh. Figures.

“I wasn’t offering it to you, Poliakoff,” snapped the headmaster, his manner much colder. The big one must be his favorite then. The boy who’d sat next to her tried to bite back a laugh, instead making a small sound in the back of his throat. It wasn’t enough.

Karakaroff’s angry gaze fell on her hapless neighbor. “And no one asked your opinion, Iroh.” Then his black eyes met hers and he froze. Asami saw comprehension dawn on his face. “Iroh, get up,” he said roughly. “I’d thought at least Slytherin House had standards. I'll not have my students _mixing,_ no matter what hair-brained notions Dumbledore has."Without another word he spun, his long robes flapping. The other Durmstrang students got to their feet and lumbered after him, their heavy red robes still dripping slightly on the stone floor.

“Nice to meet you, Miss Sato,” said the golden-eyed boy. He cast a glance at the retreating Karkaroff and his face darkened. To her surprise, he held out a hand. Asami took it and shook once. His fingers were a little rough, as if the tips had callouses, and unusually warm. “I’m looking forward to mixing,” he said soberly. His mouth twitched into a little smile, almost as if they had a secret. “Not everybody is like the Headmaster.” He adjusted his furred collar and got to his feet, then followed the rest of the Durmstrang students back to the ship.

***

Asami stood in the entrance hall. She took another look around, making sure that she was alone. It was well past lights out, and she’d lose house points or even get detention if she was caught out this late. At the same time, she had to be sure before she tried anything, and that required experimentation. What better time to experiment than the middle of the night?

The Goblet of Fire sat on a three-legged stool just inside the entrance. In the flickering torch light it looked completely ordinary aside from the blue-white flames that danced across the top. It was about 16 inches tall and a dull, metallic gray. There were no jewels or carvings; nothing that would indicate it was magical to someone like her besides the everlasting fire. Unlit it could have been Hagrid’s mug, or some outsized sports trophy. Which, Asami thought, was probably the point. Wizards hadn’t survived thousands of years of civilization by being flashy. Or perhaps, the wizards who hadn’t been flashy had been the ones who'd survived.

The golden Age Line glittered in the dim light. Dumbledore had drawn it in a perfect circle around the stool, a feat that Asami didn’t think most wizards appreciated. In a lot of ways, drawing a perfect circle was as hard or harder than basic magic. He’d left about ten feet between the edge of the circle and the goblet itself, ensuring a student couldn’t simply stretch over the line and drop their name in. But that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways.

Convinced she was unobserved, Asami reached into her pocket and pulled out a small strip of parchment and a self-inking quill. _Milicent Bulstrode - Hogwarts,_ she wrote with a grin. If by some chance this didn’t work the way she expected, she wasn’t stupid enough to put her own name down. She was sure Milicent deserved detention for something anyway.

Asami crumpled the paper, then pitched it across the age line. There was a loud sizzling sound, then the paper shot back out of the circle. It hit Asami square in the chest with a little thwap, where she caught it. 

“All right,” Asami muttered, stuffing it back under her robes. “No unaccompanied paper. Next.”

She dug in her other pocket for the gobstone. She’d swiped it from Pansy Parkinson’s set because Pansy was a bully and compensated for being a lousy gobstones player by kicking her opponents under the table. Asami had gotten quite a few bruises before she’d learned that beating Pansy was both easy and painful, and either way not worth the effort. 

She knelt and placed the gobstone carefully on the stone floor. Then she flicked it towards the Age Line. It rolled past the golden circle unobstructed. At first she thought she’d done it. Then the same fizzle sounded from somewhere inside the Age Line and the golden sphere was flung backwards. This time it hit her in the knee, hard. 

“Ow!” Asami muttered, clutching her knee as the gobstone rolled down the hall. There was already an angry red lump. _Darn. Okay._ She rubbed at it thoughtfully. So no non-human objects, either. But that didn’t make any sense. The goblet itself was just a goblet, and even if it wasn’t, the stool certainly was. 

“Hello?” said a quiet voice, almost a whisper. Asami nearly jumped out of her skin. She quickly scrambled to the left and ducked behind an enormous suit of armor as soft footsteps sounded on stone. “Is someone hurt?”

Asami held her breath. When she’d snuck out of the dungeons, the idea of getting caught trying to game the Goblet of Fire had seemed like a worthy risk. Now, she realized the gravity of what she was trying to do. She wasn’t just out of bed after hours, she was trying to get around a rule that _Dumbledore himself_ had imposed. It might not just be detention or house points. She could get expelled, or worse, give the whole Muggle Exchange program a bad name. Asami squeezed her eyes shut. _Go away,_ she thought. _Whoever you are, just go away. Go back to bed._

The footsteps came closer. They sounded careful, hesitant, as if the intruder were themselves hoping to escape notice. It didn’t seem as if they’d seen her though. That was something. Asami opened her eyes a little and saw a dark shape standing just outside the Age Line. It was a tall, rather thin boy wearing long red robes trimmed with heavy brown fur. He was facing away from her, so she couldn’t see who it was besides his short black hair and pale skin, but with an outfit like that he was certainly Durmstrang. He seemed to take a deep breath, then stepped across the line. 

Asami thought fast. A Durmstrang student alone in the middle of the night? He must mean to sabotage the Goblet of Fire somehow. Suddenly all thoughts of expulsion and house points went out the window. Not only was tampering wrong, but it would mean that everyone was disqualified. There would be no chance for her, or Slytherin House, or even Hogwarts to prove that it was the best. She couldn’t let that happen. 

Asami stepped out from behind the armor. “What are you doing?” she said. 

The boy spun, bringing fire into his hands. _Ah, one of those,_ Asami thought, remembering the rough feel of his fingers when they’d shaken hands. Because she recognized him now. The student who’d been seated next to her at dinner. Iroh, Karkaroff had called him? Not all wizards needed wands, of course, but she was impressed in spite of herself. Elemental bending talent was still relatively rare, even in the magical world. It was one of the things that had made students like Korra so formidable.

“You?” he said, keeping his voice low. He seemed just as surprised to see her as she him. He straightened a little and the fire in his hands went out. “What are you doing here?”

“I asked you first,” Asami said. She put her hands on her hips. “But if Durmstrang thinks that cheating is the only way to win, you’re already losers.”

The young man seemed to bristle at that. “Cheating? That’s what you thought I was doing?”

“Well then why are you out here?”

He reached under his robes and drew out a small scrap of parchment. “I turned seventeen two months ago. Karkaroff brought me here. Why are you so surprised that I’d enter the tournament?”

Asami didn’t have a good answer to that. She realized she’d based her accusation off of nothing but the fact that he was alone and from Durmstrang. “Well, why do it now?” she asked, walking over to him. She made sure to stay on the far side of the Age Line. “It’s two in the morning.” 

He shrugged a little, then walked back across the line to face her. “I didn’t want an audience,” he said. “I don’t know how it chooses a champion, or what happens to everyone else who enters.” He smiled down at her a little. “For all I know, it turns your parchment into a howler that chases you down the hall yelling insults. If I’m going to be humiliated, I’d prefer it not be in front of three schools' worth of people.”

Asami knit her brows a little. “You realize this is a competition, right? Even the champions are bound to get humiliated now and then.”

Iroh shrugged again. “It’s different once you’re in the fight. I don’t know why, but it is.” Then he cocked his head a little. “Your turn. Why are _you_ here, Miss Sato?”

Asami was more flattered than she should be that he’d remembered her name. She also realized that, having accused Iroh of cheating, cheating is exactly what she herself was attempting to do. “Um…” 

He narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t seventeen, are you?”

“Not… technically.” 

“Because you’re sixteen?” 

“In a month,” Asami said. 

“You’re _fifteen?”_ Iroh ran a hand through his dark hair, looking slightly exasperated. “A fifteen-year-old muggle trying to enter the Tri-Wizard tournament. You can’t be serious.”

Asami pressed her lips together. “I’m perfectly serious, Mr. Iroh.”

He started a little at that. “Mr. Iroh?”

“You call me Miss Sato.”

He sighed, then stuck out his hand again. “Just Iroh. And you are…?”

“Asami.”

As soon as her hand touched his he grabbed her wrist. “And you are going back to your dormitory, Asami.” He started dragging her down the hallway.

“Hey!” she hissed. She yanked at her arm but his grip was like iron. “Iroh! You’re not a prefect, you can’t tell me what to do. You’re not even from Hogwarts! Let me go, you jerk!” She dug in one heel, then kicked him in the hip. 

“Ouch!” Iroh yelped. He didn’t let go of her wrist, but he stopped walking. He rubbed his side with his free hand. “I’m not going to let you get yourself killed, Asami.”

“I’m not going to get killed, I’m proving a point!” 

The Durmstrang boy gave her a curious look. “What point?”

“It’s not about the Age Line, or even about the tournament. It’s about how everyone in the wizarding world assumes muggles are useless. But there’s so much we can offer! If I can figure out how to enter when all of the other underage wizards can’t, maybe I’ll have a chance to show that.” Iroh dropped her arm, looking thoughtful. Asami rubbed vigorously at her wrist. “Nobody takes me seriously, Iroh. Especially in Slytherin. But I’m just as driven and talented as any of them. I’m just… differently talented. Please, let me prove it.”

He gave her an odd, searching look, then slowly nodded. “All right. I can get behind that. What do you need?”

Asami smiled. “Thanks.” She looked around. “Um, how about a lookout?”

“Got it.” Iroh walked over to one of the walls and leaned his back against it, giving himself a full view of the entry hall in all directions. There was something about the position, relaxed but alert, that made Asami’s eyes linger just a bit too long. Ugh. She did _not_ need to be thinking a Durmstrang guy was cute.

She turned resolutely away. “Oh,” she heard from behind her. She turned back and Iroh reached into his pocket, then casually flicked something in her direction. The golden gobstone soared slowly through the air. Asami caught it easily. “Nice catch,” he said. The corner of his mouth tugged up into a smile.

“Nice toss,” she shot back, then walked over to the shining Age Line. She thought hard. _Nice toss…_ “Hey,” she said suddenly. “Can I get your help with something?”

Iroh pushed himself off the wall and walked over. “What?”

Asami pointed to one of the suits of armor that lined the entrance hall. She was tall for a girl, but Iroh was taller and would have better leverage. “Think you can get the visor off without waking anybody up?” she asked.

His thick brows knitted together in mild confusion, but he didn’t question her. Instead he walked over to the nearest knight and carefully unhooked the visor covering the front of the helmet. His fingers moved with quick, delicate precision. He handed it down to her without a word.

“Thanks.” Asami walked back to the Age Line, then pulled the parchment with “Millicent Bulstrode” out of her pocket again. She placed the parchment on top of the visor, then knelt down and shoved it sharply across the line. She held her breath.

Nothing happened. The visor wobbled a bit on the stone, then lay still. Asami made herself count to five before she breathed. 

“That,” she whispered, “is _so_ stupid.” She looked back at Iroh. He’d craned his neck, apparently trying to see what she was doing. Some lookout. “Come here,” she said. He trotted over and crouched beside her. “Can you get that back? I can’t put my hand across the line.”

Iroh retrieved the visor and the scrap of parchment. He eyed it critically. “I thought you said your name was Asami?”

“It is. I wasn’t going to do tests with my own name though.”

He let out a little chuckle. “I suppose not. Good. I like Asami better than Milicent.” He hopped to his feet, then held out a hand. She grabbed it and let him pull her up, a bit unsure why. She could stand perfectly well on her own after all. Suddenly he squeezed her hand.

“Wish me luck?” he said. He looked a little nervous. “I still haven’t entered.”

Asami squeezed back. “Good luck. I hope it’s not a howler.”

Iroh gave her a thin smile, then stepped back across the age line. He squared his shoulders, then strode up to the goblet. The bright flames cast his face into sharp relief, highlighting his square jaw and chiseled features. It made him look older, somehow, a shadow of the man he’d one day become. He dug into his robes and removed the parchment again, folded it neatly, then dropped it in the goblet. The fire flashed red and emitted a shower of sparks. Iroh took a quick step back, but nothing else happened. The flames returned to their former blueish white, dancing quietly inside the goblet. Asami saw his shoulders relax a little. 

He turned and trotted back to her, a rather silly smile on his face, and just like that he was a boy again, barely seventeen and flushed with triumph. “Okay,” he breathed. “Okay. Done.” He looked around the empty entrance hall, as if only then remembering that they were alone together in the middle of the night. “Um. Now what?”

“I need a rock,” Asami said promptly. She held up the gobstone. “About this size, and round if I can find one.”

Iroh looked back the way he had come. “I need to go back to the ship.” He met Asami’s eyes. “Would you by any chance like to walk with me? Maybe we can find your rock on the way?”

***

Asami walked into the entrance hall early. Just as she’d hoped, a small group of students had gathered around the Goblet of Fire. The Weasley twins and their friend Lee were huddled just in front of the Age Line whispering to one another along with a knot of fellow Gryffindors that included, unsurprisingly, Harry Potter. Of course he’d try to enter as well. In a lot of ways, he was as bad as Korra. Asami didn’t have anything particular against Harry as a person, but she had no idea why surviving a magical attack that had killed your mother made anyone special. Lots of people had that. It was just that not all scars were visible.

“Ready?” said George, or maybe Fred, to the other two. “C’mon then—I’ll go first—” He pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket and took a big step across the line. Fred, or maybe George, followed suit. For a moment nothing happened. Then there was a loud sizzling sound and both Weasleys were flung out of the circle like they weighed no more than Asami’s stolen gobstone. They landed on their butts with a crash, both of them sprouting long white beards.

The room erupted into laughter. Asami laughed along with everyone else. Gryffindors might be brave, but spirits did they have shit for brains sometimes. 

She reached into her pocket and closed her fist around the paper-covered rock. Now was as good a time as any. She strode forwards to the edge of the line, just as a deep voice said, “I did warn you.” Asami pulled out the rock, took a moment to check her aim, then tossed it the ten feet into the top of the goblet. There was a clang and a flash of red and a shower of sparks. Then, nothing. 

The entire room went silent. There was no applause this time. Asami didn’t move. 

“Miss Sato, come with me, please,” Professor Dumbledore said quietly. “Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley, I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey.”

Asami looked at her feet, then slowly turned, unable to meet anyone’s eye. She followed the hem of Dumbledore’s robes down the entry hall. But as she walked, the other students began to chatter.

“Holy shit, did you see that?”

“Did she seriously just wrap parchment around a rock?”

“Bloody brilliant, that was.”

“And to think I spent all night drinking that ruddy potion.”

“I should pay more attention in Muggle Studies.”

“With brains like that, why’s she in Slytherin?”

Slowly, Asami began to smile.

***

“Lines, Miss Sato,” said Professor Snape. His black eyes bored into her. “As your head of house, if it were up to me I’d have you expelled. Lucky for you, Professor Dumbledore was _amused._ He found your little stunt creative. Using something older than seventeen to deliver your name to the goblet, but not a person. Said it made him _think.”_ The professor almost spat the word, as if thinking was something dirty. “Well, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to think now.” 

He tapped the chalkboard with his wand. The line _I am a menace to the wizarding world_ appeared across the top. “I want six feet of parchment. Go.”

“Six _feet?”_ Asami sputtered. There was a snicker next to her. Iroh, the Durmstrang boy, sat a few seats away. 

“Now it is seven,” Snape said coldly, “and if I hear another word from you it will be ten, Slytherin or no. Begin.” He rounded on Iroh, his black robes flapping like a giant bat. “And as for you, you are a guest at Hogwarts. Breaking our rules on the first evening by sneaking out of bed is unforgivable. Professor Karkaroff has refused to send you home, but I can assure you that when I’m done with you you’ll wish he had.” He tapped the chalkboard again. Below Asami’s line it now read: _I am a disgrace to my institution._ “Twelve feet. Now.” 

Iroh made a small choking noise, then glowered down at his parchment. He seemed to know better than to talk back.

“I’ll be in my office,” said Professor Snape. “If I hear one peep from either of you, you’ll wish you’d never been born.” He gave them each a searching look, then stalked off to the right. Asami heard a door slam. 

She ventured a glance at Iroh. He was bent forward in concentration, his dark hair falling across his forehead. His quill scratched across the parchment. He wouldn’t look at her. Asami didn’t blame him. If it weren’t for her, he might not have gotten caught out of bed. Not only had he hung around to play lookout, but after they’d found a few suitable rocks on the walk back to the ship he’d instead offered to help her practice her shot. She’d explained her plan, and knew she’d only get one chance to land the parchment-covered stone in the Goblet of Fire. They’d spent as much as an hour hidden on the grounds, Asami pitching stone after stone through increasingly smaller circles of flame until she knew her aim was perfect. 

Asami looked down at her parchment. 

_I’m sorry,_ she wrote. She carefully tore off the top and passed the note to Iroh. He looked up with a start, then reached out and took it. He looked at it and frowned a little, then scratched something below it. He passed it back.

 _For what?_

_Getting you caught. You didn’t have to help me._

Iroh took the paper from her, then smiled a little and wrote again. 

_Make it up to me?_

Asami cocked an eyebrow. _How?_

Iroh wrote longer this time. _Neither of us were picked as champions. A bit relieved to be honest. Going to be a long year though. All the D students are staying at H-warts anyway._

_How is that making it up to you?_

This time it took him almost a minute to reply. He wasn’t writing though, just staring thoughtfully at the parchment. Asami got started on her own lines, beginning at the top of the torn page. 

_I am a menace to the wizarding world._

_I am a menace to the wizarding world._

_I am a menace to the wizarding world._

A new bit of parchment landed on top of hers, folded. Asami picked it up and opened it.

 _Go out with me?_ it read. 

Asami let out a laugh. 

“That had better not be talking!” Snape’s voice thundered through the door of his office. She bit down on her lip, then picked up her quill. 

_Yes._ She re-folded it and tossed it back to Iroh. He opened it and grinned. “All right,” he whispered.

Asami started writing as quickly as she could. Seven feet of parchment never went so fast.

**Author's Note:**

> I am impressed no one has given me shit for putting Asami in Slytherin.


End file.
